


toxicity

by Kirumi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, Suicide, references to canon characters - Freeform, uhhh mentions of smoking child abuse and homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 02:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12717909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirumi/pseuds/Kirumi
Summary: i'd love, but don't know how to





	toxicity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caticoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caticoo/gifts).



> in response to http://archiveofourown.org/works/12716031

There is a very tiny boy in your class.

He is unremarkable and seemingly invisible. He looks small even while seated at his desk. You don't even know his name or anything about him for that matter. You never see him at lunchtime, nor do you ever see him in anyone's friend group, or hanging around with anyone individually. You pop by the library and ask your snide ex-girlfriend if she knows him since she knows about everyone in the school. She's a pain to deal with on a good day but after some pleading she agrees to give you the information you ask for. Unfortunately, she only gives you the boy's name and talent as written directly on the school records, which you could have gotten yourself without her help honestly (too bad you didn't think of that first). When you think about it none of your fellow students seem to be close to him. You find yourself wondering if just like you this boy has no real friends. Perhaps that's a rude assumption, and perhaps he just elects to avoid everyone. You decide that must be it. He's nothing like you after all.

You've been compared to many things in your life before, most of them unpleasant or insulting. As much as you hate the names that still bounce around in your skull at night, you can't help but to agree some of them are rightfully said. Persistent, annoying, you're just like a dog with a bone, she had said on many occasions. This is no different. You feel the need to watch this boy, from a distance. You quell that small seed of hope that wonders if you can be his friend. Nothing good has ever come for those who get close to you. You won't allow this boy to end up haunting you too. So instead of befriending him, you just reach out in the tiniest most casual of ways. When he drops his items, your large hands are there to retrieve them for him. When you pass by his desk, you sometimes say hello and then keep walking. You ignore the growing desire in your heart for friendship. Best not to wedge yourself where you're not wanted. Why would anyone want to be your friend, after all? You're a monster.

Nobody knows the truth about your childhood, or how you became the ultimate archer and truth be told, you don't want anyone to know. It's just not something you'd feel comfortable talking about with anyone, not even the ultimate therapist if one is ever scouted. Not even your vivacious ex knows, and she's the only person attending Hope's Peak Academy who knew you before you came here to this wonderful school. How could she know, when you held her at arms length for so long until she couldn't stand it and ended up leaving you. So you don't blame her for when she gives you lip in public (You deserve it, for breaking her heart). You wonder if maybe, just maybe, this boy would listen to you without judging you for your past. The feeling comes to you out of nowhere one day when you feel him watching you yet again. You can just imagine it, his pink eyes trained on you as you bare your soul to him. Would he condemn you or would he absolve you, not knowing scares you as ridiculous as that might be.

Finally your curiosity becomes too much for you to bear, and you ask an acquaintance (on their way to possibly becoming a friend) if they know the small boy. The dismissive response that he's just some loser kid with no friends has you seeing red for a moment. You hate how that assessment of him might not be so far off, but you still give that acquaintance the cold shoulder from that day on for reasons you don't end up understanding until far far later. And when you do realize, its too late. So you just chalk it up to you being overprotective of the weak and nothing more, ignoring the spiteful little voice in your head that says you have never succeeded in protecting anybody.

The day you met Kono Kagehisa for the first time, you overheard girls whispering about how someone was stuck in a tree as you walked through campus and back to your room. Immediately your sense of duty was triggered-- you had to go get them down, whoever it was. And there he was, the smallest boy you've ever seen in your life, sleeping in the tree. You assume the poor kid's been stuck in the tree for so long he ended up falling asleep. As peaceful as he looks, you need to get him down. “Are you okay, little guy?", you call out to him. He's so tired he only responds with a weak nod, so you extricate him from the tree as gently as possible. And then he was in your arms, little and frail and oh-so-warm. You resist the urge to continue holding him against your chest, and quash the resulting thoughts down hard. Your mother never was fond of people who embraced _that lifestyle_ after all.

After that day, you never interacted with him directly again. But you never forgot him and even saw him around every now and again. He kept watching you, and now it felt different. _You_ felt different. Your dreams changed and you were afraid. Anyone else might have looked online, or asked for advice on how they felt. You were never good at recognizing your own feelings, much less talking about them. All you could do was _deny, deny, deny_ and pretend to be normal. That should have been your ultimate talent, not archery, even if you hated both when it really came down to it. You never did end up getting close to that small boy who caught your eye. Instead you got a girlfriend, a nice and pretty enough girl who worked up the courage to confess to you one day. Her earnest yet shy face as she held out that letter wasn't the face you wanted to see, but this is what your mother would want. That's what you told yourself as you accepted the letter and her feelings with shaking hands and a quivering heart. It's for the best. You'll see, Yuhiro.

The school spread it like wildfire. The ultimate archer and soldier began dating, what a power couple. Girls wished they had a boyfriend like you (no you don't, you silently thought to yourself), boys were simultaneously jealous and congratulatory (and you hated every second of it), and even the teacher everyone loved would ask in jest when you two would get married ( _no no no no no)._ After that, you no longer felt his gaze and you missed it desperately even as some hidden part of you yearned for more. To her credit, your girlfriend seemed to sense how you felt and never got angry with you. One day she sat you down in her room and told you that she was leaving and wouldn't be coming back for a long time, if ever. She ended up making you cry but not for the reasons others would later assume when they saw you staggering to your room, relieved beyond measure for the first time in your life. Nobody knew why you two separated, they just assumed it was because of the strain of a long-distance relationship. Good, let them think that if they wanted. Better than them knowing the truth.

You struggled to cope with your new-found feelings afterwards. It didn't work well, you weren't functioning and other people most likely noticed but didn't care. If anyone noticed you were behaving erratically they just chalked it up to you missing your now ex-girlfriend. Nobody asked, nobody questioned, it was all in your favor. Nobody bothered checking up on you and you spiraled and spiraled further down. This was _wrong, wrong, wrong,_ **_you_** were wrong. Soon you were skipping classes, and smoking cigarettes to calm your nerves. Your true colors were there for all to see, if they just scraped at the exterior. But nobody did, you had them all fooled well enough. Like your mother had forced you to do, beating the individuality out of you until what she wanted was what you wanted as well. But you weren't happy, the part of your brain that still wanted to revolt cried out incessantly. You just beat it down with a club, since a monster like you didn't deserve to be happy. No, not a monster in society's eyes but..a murderer, perhaps. How could you possibly be any further from normal, you agonized over it every night.

Eventually you just wandered around campus like a zombie, on the days you did attend school. People still didn't notice or reach out, and why would they when you kept them all at arm's length just like you had done to that girl who had once loved you. Look how bitter she turned out to be because of you. Exactly one month later you had a dream that absolutely destroyed your chances of getting any sleep that night. It was the last straw, you decided. You couldn't take any more of this. What kind of life could you hope to have when you yourself kept ruining things for you. No, it had to end. Nothing went right, like you hoped it would at times. You were never good. You never had a chance to be good. You were born a monster. And monsters never have a happy ending, in stories. They die. That's just how it is.

And that's why you find yourself like this, hunched over a bridge mid-winter. The water was partially frozen in some places, but there was still plenty of running water for what you planned to do. With steady hands, you light a cigarette, begin smoking it and close your eyes. You think about everything you've ever done wrong in your life, the people you've hurt, and how you'll make up for it now in this moment. Behind your closed eyelids, you can still see the twisted burnt wreck of the car that almost killed you but didn't. Its haunted your dreams for years now. He shouldn't have swerved. He shouldn't have died. You killed him, you broke his family, and you should have died on that day. But it's okay, you'll make it right very shortly. Unlike him, nobody will miss you when you're gone. Nobody needs you around to survive. You exhale a cloud of smoke and think about your ex-girlfriends. You hope they can forgive you in time, and find people they deserve. People who are good for them. The cigarette goes back to your lips. You think of that frail boy. He'll never know how you felt about him. You start to sob and the cigarette falls from your lips to be put out by the snow. If this was a novel with a happy ending, this is when someone would come to stop you. But nobody comes. This isn't a novel, this is reality.

Perhaps in another life, you'll meet that boy and fall in love with him again.

Perhaps he'll love you back.

Perhaps you'll be happy. 


End file.
